Hem! now, sir, I shall ask you one momentous question--Do you mean to stick to it that you're Greenfinch? MRS. G. Stick to it?--oh! aw--like demned wax. GREEN. (_solemnly_) The world's a cage, not wide enough for two Greenfinches like us; one of us must hop the perch. MRS. G. Exactly, my good fellow; I shall dispose of you immediately--my pistols are in the next room. (_going_) GREEN. Stop! We must fight in this apartment. MRS. G. Here? oh, very well. If you prefer being shot on the premises--I can have no objection. GREEN. One word more! the sight of a pistol affects my nerves--we must fight in the dark! MRS. G. In the dark! Who ever heard of a duel in the dark? why we may fight till morning and I may never be able to hit you. GREEN. That's precisely what I wish; if we fight it must be in the dark. MRS. G. Well, if you make it a point, I shan't dispute it with you, as I dare say I shall be able to pick you out somehow--I'll step in for my pistols. _Exit into room, 2 E. L._ GREEN. Hah! bravo! I've caught him. Stratagems are all fair in love and fighting, and as this fellow means to shoot me, it's my business to prevent him if I can; so I'll get behind the stove there, and then he may blaze away as long as he likes. I'll shut the windows and be ready for him. (_goes to window at back; closes the shutters; draws the curtains, and blows out the remaining candle; stage dark; while he is doing so, enter, 2 E. L., MRS. G. with BETSY, who carries a brace of pistols_) BETSY. (_apart to MRS. G._) Here are the pistols, ma'am. (_gives them to MRS. G._) MRS. G. (_apart to BETSY_) You're quite sure they can do no harm? BETSY. (_apart_) You needn't be afraid, mum, there's nothing but powder in them. MRS. G. (_apart_) Well, you know what you have to do. (_BETSY goes into room, L._) He-hem! GREEN. Oh, you're come? MRS. G. Yes, miserable man, I've come that you may go--I've got the popguns! GREEN. Have you? then mind how you point them this way. Where are you? (_crosses to L._) MRS. G. Here--here--make haste! GREEN. What a devil of a hurry you're in! (_in groping about he touches one of the pistols, which MRS. G. holds with extended arm, and starts back_) Oh! you shouldn't do that--not that I'm afraid--but the sensation is far from pleasant. MRS. G. Come, sir, you shall take one and leave me the other. GREEN. Thank you. (_feels the pistol; aside_) The touch of them throws me into a cold perspiration! I wish I knew which was the mildest of the pair. MRS. G. Well, have you made your choice? GREEN. No--yes--there--this will do! (_takes one of the pistols, MRS. G keeps the other. Apart_) Oh, lord, my heart's in my wellingtons! MRS. G. Are you ready now? GREEN. No--no--no--not yet! let's take our time! do you think a human being should be shot with as little ceremony as a sack of coals? MRS. G. Haw! Shall we fire at the first word?